


Tequila, Realization. and Coffee

by i_like_to_touch_butts



Category: Saints Row
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Love Realization, M/M, but so is Johnny, i'm a sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_like_to_touch_butts/pseuds/i_like_to_touch_butts
Summary: The Boss shows up at Johnny's door drunk and in need of his best friend.





	Tequila, Realization. and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got around to writing for what has become one of my favorite video games. It's only been since christmas that I started playing them but I instantly fell in love with both Johnny and the relationship between the Boss and Johnny. I have also spent way too much time working on my boss character so I hope you all like him? Also note that this is set towards the end of SR2.

When Johnny hears a knock at the door of his old apartment he’s been staying in he isn’t anywhere near sleep, he’d been having a lot of trouble sleeping since Aisha had died. The sudden noise startles him slightly as he sits straight up in the bed. He looks at the blurry glowing numbers of the alarm clock reading that it was four in the morning, which causes some greater concern. He grabs around under the bed for the knife he knew was stashed away there. Once his hands finds the hilt he puts on his glasses and makes his way cautiously to the door.

Since there wasn’t any way to look out and see who was coming he unlocks the door and slowly swings it open. Standing in the doorway illuminated only by moonlight is Boss. Johnny had seen Boss in some pretty interesting outfits but this one was on a whole new level. If the Boss was anyone else he’d probably get openly catcalled but everyone was terrified of him so he was completely fine. Though Johnny knew people had to have been staring who wouldn’t with his knee high black leather boots, tight crop top, and very …small denim shorts.

“Hey, Johnny!” The Boss says leaning heavily against the door frame slurring his words in a way that would be obvious to anyone how much he’d had to drink. Also, the fact that he smelled like straight tequila.

“Boss. What the hell?” He finally asks dropping the knife onto the small table next to the door. 

“The bar at Technically Legal won’t serve me anymore.” He says frowning, then after a minute. “Can I come in?”

With a raised eyebrow Johnny steps aside and lets him into the apartment. Boss automatically goes for the fridge and Johnny trails behind him turning on the light.

“Do I gotta guess why or are you gonna tell me?” He asked the figure that was now bent over rummaging around for, something.

“They fuckin, said I’d had too much. Like I don’t know my own limits, pfft.” He says punctuating the sentence with a little stomp of his heeled boot. Johnny can’t help a smile at that. Sometimes it was hard for Johnny to see boss as he was now, a grown man in charge of the saints, and not as he was when he met him. Back then Boss was just a much smaller, younger, and mostly naïve kid.

“So, what? You come to complain to me?” Johnny asks leaning against the kitchen counter. Boss straightens up finally with a disappointed look on his face.

“Well, I came to find more drinks but since you don’t have any. I guess so. Also, you’re my favorite!” Boss says smiling brightly at Johnny and that causes something in his chest to tighten.

“Okay then.” Johnny says slowly. “I think what you really need is some water.” He goes to the sink getting a glass, filling it, and handing it to the purple haired man.

“Thank.” Boss says moving over into the living room not questioning Johnny. When he sits it’s more of a flop than anything. Johnny makes his way over to join him sitting on the armchair to give the Boss more room. After a few seconds of watching the other man drink with a hazy look in his eyes he sits his glass down. Boss leans down and begins fiddling with the straps and zippers his boots trying to remove them. Johnny can’t help but chuckle at the display as the purple haired man curses quietly. Finally he just stops and looks at Johnny with a pout.

“Help me.” He whines kicking out a foot. Johnny shakes his head but kneels down anyway.

“Whatever you say Boss.” He says trying to figure out the shoes himself in the dim light from the kitchen.

“Benji.” Boss suddenly says catching his attention. Johnny looks up and The Boss looks, apprehensive. It’s a look Johnny is definitely not used to seeing on him. Johnny just raises an eyebrow and after a second Boss speaks again. “My name, it’s Benji. Benjamin ‘Benji’ Jones.” He says drawing out the ‘s’ and leaning his head back. “I never told anyone in The Saints that, or anyone else for that matter. It’s stupid fucking name but I just…wanted you to know. You’re special.” He leans his head forward now looking down at Johnny. “To me, you know?” He says with all seriousness an extremely drunk man can muster. For a moment Johnny just sits there holding The Boss’ still booted foot, just a little bit in awe.

He’d known Benji for three going into four years and he never felt the need to give this information until now. And that made at least the second time that night he’d told Johnny he was special.

“Do you wanna be called Boss or do you want to be called by name?” He asks. Benji seems to mull it over for a while and Johnny almost thinks he’s fallen asleep until he gets a reply.

“I want you to call me by name.”

That’s all he says and after a while Johnny finally gets his boots off, throwing them off towards the door. When he stands and gets a good look at Benji he realizes he was fallen asleep. His chest is rising and falling evenly and not quite snores are escaping him. Johnny can’t help a smile as he watches. Since Aisha’s death the purple haired loud mouth with a hair trigger temper had been the only one to help him feel less empty. He picks him up easily, carrying him towards the bedroom.

Once he deposited him on the bed he made his way back to the couch making his own bed for the night. If it were anyone else they’d have been the one on the couch instead but Benji (he’d have to get used to that) had always been different. Johnny was a knife welding, gun packing gangster who definitely didn’t have time to sit around and ponder shit like love. But, when he was once asked to rank his favorite people Benji was always there up top. (Right next to Isha.) Sometimes she would even joke that if something happened to her and Johnny that Boss would be right next in line.

Johnny had never really thought about it, but now he certainly was. They were best friends, Johnny was his second, and they were the only two who were always there for each other. He hummed quietly to himself and rolled over on the uncomfortable couch cushions. Realizing nothing good would come out staying up thinking about it he tried to force himself to sleep.

The next morning he was woken up by someone non-to gently shaking his arm, without thinking he rolls over only to be pulled completely off the couch.

“What the fuck man?” He yells looking up at the source of his disturbance.

“Quit fucking screaming Johnny. Do you have any coffee in this shit hole?” Benji asks bleary eyed with last night’s eyeliner smeared down his face giving him raccoon eyes. Johnny stands up slowly off the floor, his back popping along the way.

“It’s in the cabinet above the sink asshole.” He says and Benji just goes off. Johnny follows him after a second of stretching. 

“You look like shit old man.” Benji says as he goes on his tip-toes searching threw his nearly bare pantry cabinets.

“I could say the same to you and, wait. Is that my shirt?” He asks just noticing that at some point Boss had changed out of his ridiculous club outfit. Now all he seemed to be wearing was an old Freckle Bitch’s t-shirt that fit fine on Johnny but hung off one of Benji’s shoulders. Also underwear, maybe? Johnny couldn’t really tell at least not from this angle.

“No.” Benji deadpans as he continues trying to gather a source of caffeine. Johnny just shakes his head and watches. He wonders if Benji remembers telling him he was special over and over last night. Johnny definitely remembers the conversation he had with himself before passing out. Seeing the Boss mill around his kitchen wearing his shirt like he belonged there didn’t help any.

“You’re a little shit, Benji.” Johnny says finally standing to help him. (Saying his name would definitely get some taking used to.) The shorter of the two turns to look at him with his usual wicked grin on his face.

“Aw, but you love it.” He says fluttering his eyelashes at him and that Johnny can’t deny.

Without much else thought (No one ever said Johnny Gat was a cautious man.) Johnny leans down to be on his level and kisses him. He can feel Benji jump slightly on instinct, then reach up to grab the collar of his shirt holding him in place.

“Holy shit.” Benji mutter breathlessly some time later.

“So I’m guessin I’m not getting punched?” Johnny asks despite the fact that he knew he’d be fine even if the Boss didn’t feel exactly the same way.

“Hell no.” He replies going in for another kiss.

“What about the coffee?” Johnny asks teasingly.

“It can fucking wait, I know I have.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr at abra-ca-fuck-you or my writing tumblr at mikeywritesshit. (Should I write a second part? If I do it'll probably just be smut lmao.)


End file.
